Will Wonders Ever Cease
by fleeting . white . feathers
Summary: "...Sir, there's a teenage girl living in with the Avengers." Fury covered his face with a hand and promptly ordered himself an aspirin. "...She's a mutant, sir." He decided that wasn't enough and left for the shooting range. Hopefully he would have enough self control not to shoot himself in the head and save himself the headache.
1. The First Meeting

Ironically enough, the first Avenger to meet her was… The First Avenger.

Steve Rogers stood at a corner of Times Square with his motorbike, gazing out into the seething mass of people. People passing by, people milling about… the Square was teeming with the life and bustle that was the signature of the city that never sleeps. It seemed as if not even an alien invasion could kill the spirit of the city.

For a man who still remembered it as an open space with stone buildings and no ground-to-sky video screens, it was completely overwhelming.

Steve sighed and shook his head. This was why he needed to leave the city. He needed some time to think, to adjust. It had just been a month since he had awoken in the 21st century, and three weeks since the Chitauri attack. Time after that was spent healing, learning, and finding information on his old teammates.

Fury had allowed him to find his old team and visit them. Already there was a car waiting for him back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, ready to take him to see… to see Peggy.

He needed to find his place in this new world he'd awoken to. For that, he needed to say goodbye to his old one.

He couldn't run away from it anymore.

A voice spoke up by his elbow, jolting him out of his thoughts. "Hey, mister."

Steve turned, wondering who it could be. He found himself looking down at a small, thin girl, not looking a day over thirteen, with straw-blonde hair and inquisitive blue eyes. She stared openly at him, her eyebrows meeting in a little frown, like he was a puzzle she couldn't solve. "Are you lost?" she asked, tilting her head and peering up at his face.

He smiled a little wryly. "I guess you could say that," he replied. "What's a little gal like you doing out here all alone?" He raised his head and searched the crowds, but no one looked like they were missing a kid.

"I'm fifteen," the girl replied flatly, her cool blue eyes unimpressed. "I can walk around New York by myself, thanks."

Steve had to hide a smile at her confidence. "Still, you have to be careful, little miss," he said seriously. "It hasn't been that long since the aliens attacked the city after all. And that doesn't include the regular, everyday goons the city seems to attract," he added.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Yes dad, I'll be careful," she replied, her voice full of sarcasm. There was a little twinkle in her eyes though, as though she found something funny in what he had said. Steve wondered what could be so funny about people waiting for victims in a dark alley.

Something buzzed against his thigh. He didn't need to look to know that it was his phone ringing. (He didn't want to look. He had enough trouble trying to navigate the damn thing.) He sighed softly. It was time to go.

"Go home, kid," he advised, getting on his bike. "This isn't the kind of day to spend outside on your own."

"And you, mister?" Blue eyes stared into blue. "Are you going home?"

His smile was sad as he shook his head. "I'm going to visit a friend," he told her. "Besides… I'm not sure where home is anymore," he murmured to himself.

"Me neither."

He turned towards the girl in surprise, not quite sure if he'd heard her right over the sea of noise that was Times Square. She merely smiled at him and waved. "See you around, mister." Then she turned and melted back into the crowd.

Steve stared after her a little while longer, then shook his head. "It's none of my business," he decided.

It would be months before he would realize how mistaken he was.

* * *

**Okay, I just got an idea and it blossomed on a whim and now I am writing it. This won't be as serious or as long or as complicated as Fragments of Memory, so expect shorter chapters. Can't say if the updates will be more regular or more erratic than FoM though, hahaha!**

**If anyone wants to get to know my OC better, she's actually a modified version of an OC I use to RP. I won't say her name so as not to spoil anything, but if you're the curious type, just go over to www .under-the-lonely-stars. tumblr. com (without the spaces). The cover picture is a picture I photoshopped myself, with my OC's face claim Elle Fanning. (She has the same face claim in tumblr.)**

**Next update should be in a few days, then after that, who knows? C:**


	2. Unexpected Independent Locomotion

The first time the last (but not the least, though some may think so) Avenger met her, however, was _not _the last time they would see her.

Clint bit back a groan. Can't he even take just _one_ fucking break in this world?

First it was Fury calling him on his first – his first! After how many years in this sometimes-goddamned agency? – vacation from S.H.E.I.L.D. and assigning him to New Mexico. Now it was a short break from spying on a suspected contact for a smuggling ring, and he gets an idiot holding up the convenience store.

He just wanted some juice, dammit.

"Hand over the money!" Clint peered out from behind the aisle he was in at the man currently pointing a gun at the cashier. The guy hadn't noticed him yet. He'd been bent over, getting a drink from one of the lower shelves of the refrigerators in the back when the yelling started.

The robber must have thought the shop was empty when he came in. Clint almost wished it _had _been empty, but apparently he was supposed to be a superhero now and he couldn't do that.

He glanced at his watch. He had ten minutes before his partner would start getting annoyed or, God forbid, _worried_ about him.

No, make that fifteen. He wasn't with Nat today after all.

She could be such a mom sometimes.

He shifted forward a little more, moving in position to tackle the robber to the ground – only to nearly bump into a girl retreating on her knees. She whirled around, blonde hair whipping and blue eyes wide. Clint pressed a finger to his lips in a silent plea. She nodded slowly in understanding, then resumed shuffling backwards, until she was hiding behind the aisle opposite his.

"I said hand it over!" The guy sounded slightly panicked. He twitched constantly, glancing out the window and back again. The man – a boy, really – looked to be in his early 20s. Clint pitied him. He was sweating profusely, and the hand holding his gun trembled. He was probably on a dare from some gang, or really, really desperate.

He figured it was the former. The desperate usually didn't have the money to buy a gun.

"Okay, okay, here, here! Just don't shoot!" The cashier guy pleaded, shoving bills into the backpack the robber had brought with him.

"Faster!" The robber glanced out the window again. Clint stood in one swift motion, ready to leap- only for the guy to turn around and fire at him with a scream of shock.

Clint dove back behind his aisle, the bullet ricocheting off the metal shelves where his head had been. He heard a muffled yelp from behind him, quickly drowned out by the cashier guy's scream.

Dude probably pissed his pants already.

At least the girl knew how to keep quiet. He really didn't need a sobbing mess of little girl clinging to him right now. While it was something he himself had never really experienced, he'd been told it was something little girls do.

"Give me that!" The robber grabbed the bag, sounding plenty pissed-in-his-pants himself, and bolted for the door. That alone told Clint he was an absolute noob at this (and may he never say that word aloud because he'd have to explain to Tony Stark why the hell he knew teenage gaming geek lingo).

Rule number one in combat: Never turn your back on an enemy.

Clint dashed forward, ready to take the scumbag down and just get it over with, but something else got to him first.

Namely, the door.

The door that swung open for the guy, then slammed into his face.

By itself.

"Aargh!" The robber howled in pain, dropping his gun to clutch at his nose.

Clint had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not pausing to wonder, he tackled the man, twisting his arm around and pinning him to the ground. The man swore violently and tried to reach for his gun. A little more pressure on his arm served to discourage him.

Not that he needed it. The gun skittered away, out of reach of its ex-owner's twitching fingers.

By itself.

Clint decided to focus on keeping the robber pinned down.

"Anyone got any rope?" he asked, his voice a calm contrast to his iron grip on the man underneath him. He looked for all the world like he was ready to kick back and have a martini, despite the fact that more than one object within his immediate vicinity had decided it was entitled to independent locomotion today.

Clint didn't hang around a man who designed semi-autonomous robotic hands for nothing.

"And can someone call the police?" he added belatedly, remembering this was not a S.H.I.E.L.D. op where the cleanup crew came without his say-so but a simple robbing at a convenience store.

The great Hawkeye reduced to stopping a robbing at a convenience store.

Coulson would have laughed.

"R-r-right! Rope, uh, police and- I'll get it," the cashier babbled, before darting into a back room. Clint listened to his footsteps go, the little girl panting slightly as she followed him. He kept his eyes on the now-whimpering robber, and on any possible backup he might have on the streets.

It didn't take long for the police to arrive. They found the robber bound and gagged by tape (there was no rope) and the cashier relieved and practically sobbing about a blond guy almost as heroic as the Avengers. He'd even paid for his juice before he left!

A few blocks away Clint drank said juice with relish, thinking that they definitely didn't pay him enough for this job. Screw assassinations, screw saving the world, hell, screw dealing with Tony fucking Stark on a near-daily basis, if he couldn't even take a short break without shit happening he _definitely_ wasn't being paid enough.

The memory of the swinging door and the moving gun flashed through his mind. He considered it, then put the thought aside for later. At the very least, Fury would want to know about any possible supernatural occurrences in the middle of Avengers-protected New York.

It was only later after he'd replaced his partner at his post (fourteen and a half minutes and not even sweating, that amount of trust in this kind of job always flattered his ego) that he realized something.

He never did see where the silent girl from the aisle had gone.

His forehead wrinkled into a small frown.

He was definitely telling Fury.

* * *

**...After Fragments of Memory, I don't know how to do author's notes anymore. I hope you enjoy the sarcasm, because my only sources for Hawkeye's personality is 12 minutes and 44 seconds of Avenger screen time, less from the Thor movie (which I did not even remember his role in until Wikipedia reminded me), some Wikipedia articles, and fanon from fanfiction. So yes, egotistic sarcastic marksman (with good reason!) Hawkeye at your service folks.**

**As for our mystery girl, don't worry! She won't stay a mystery soon- next chapter is when the plot gets _really _rolling. Stay tuned!**

**katniss: Oh dear, I am so sorry he came off that way! Steve was just honestly concerned for her (it's in his job description, being a hero and all) and he _has _fought in a war before. ('Wars' now, I guess.) He was just looking out for our dear mystery girl, so I'm sorry if it came off differently. I edited the chapter though, so I hope it's not a problem anymore.  
**

**MusicOfMadness:**** Hey there! Thank you for checking out my other work as well! As you can see, I am definitely continuing this one. I don't know how long the frequent updates will last though, hahaha!**

**TheLilyReviewer:**** Thank you! I hope I can live up to your expectations! :D**


	3. It's The Final Countdown

It's been six months since the Battle of New York and the world had finally settled down in peace. New York was well on its way to recovery, especially with Stark Industries and Ironman himself taking active participation in its rebuilding. Stark Tower stood tall and proud, completely repaired and even upgraded after its surprise renovation in the Chitauri attack. Now, unbeknownst to the people who walked below, the top levels housed the very people who had saved their lives – the Avengers.

Some of them, anyway.

It's been seven and a half weeks since everyone moved in, and the team was still struggling to adjust to the home life. Actually, Pepper, Tony, and Bruce were struggling to adjust to the home life. Natasha had stopped by long enough to correct Tony's initial interior design of her room, before leaving for an extended mission to Switzerland. Clint had managed to stop by more often (by more often meaning thrice), and if Tony didn't know any better he'd think the guy was being shy. They (Pepper and Bruce) counted themselves lucky that Steve was around so often (two to three times a week), seeing as he had already finished his "round trip of America and its senior citizen community" (Tony's words) and was now also in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s employ.

And of course, no one had heard from Thor other than that he will know and come if they ever needed his help.

Frankly, Tony was happy enough to pat himself on the back every morning he walked into the kitchen area for breakfast and found Banner sitting in his chair, sipping a mug of tea. So basically, everyone was about as accounted for as everyone could be in a group as filled with misfits as theirs was.

It's also been eighteen days since the Melter incident, and Tony was starting to get really, really tired of Ironman wannabes.

"We are streaming live from Bronx Park. A man calling himself _Bomberman _has planted several bombs within the vicinity, threatening to activate them if Ironman does not show himself." A pale but steady news reporter spoke rapidly from the TV.

"You're joking, right?" Tony said flatly, his arms crossed as he glared at the television.

_BOOM!_

Screams resonated through the surround-sound speakers as a part of the ground exploded, forcing the people within to flee from the area.

"Apparently not, sir." JARVIS answered.

"Haha, very funny JARVIS."

JARVIS hesitated. "I do not believe I was making a humorous declaration."

Tony was saved from replying by the television screaming his name.

Literally.

"TONY STARK!" The camera quickly zoomed in on what could only be the hostage taker. He hung in the air above the park, a small figure of blue and white armor that nearly had him blending into the clouds. "I CHALLENGE YOU, SUIT TO SUIT! COME FACE ME BEFORE THE CLOCK STRIKES THREE, OR ELSE I'LL BLOW UP THE PARK!"

"Next thing you know he'll be yelling out 'Fight me! For honor!' or something like that," Tony grumbled. "What is this, the Dark Ages? Who even does this kind of stuff anymore? JARVIS!" he called out, spreading his hands. "Time to suit up." He checked the clock. Five minutes to three. He tsked. Some super villains had no patience at all.

"Right away sir."

Neither did he, but then again he wasn't a super villain so it didn't count.

"Oh, and…" He turned his attention back to the TV as Mr. Blue Wannabe spoke up again. "If I see any of your Avenger friends with you, I'll blow the place up, no questions asked. I want this to be between you and me. Just you and me, Tinman." He rolled his eyes as the man even pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at the camera. What was he, four?

"Now that's just rude," he complained for the sake of complaining. Even as he spoke, he felt the familiar weight of his armor settling on his shoulders, courtesy of JARVIS. "It's like he's asking for his own as on a silver platter."

"Already the park has been thrown into chaos, people panicking as they try to flee, only to be blocked by the laser fence you can see behind me, planted around the park by Bomberman. Unable to reach the citizens, the police force have been made completely helpless in the face of this new threat. The question now is, will Ironman come? Or maybe his new teammates, the heroes who saved Manhattan from-"

Tony's visor settled over his face with a final clink. He was ready to go.

"Need any help?" Steve walked up behind him, a cup of coffee in his hands and his eyes on the TV screen.

"Aww, Cap, you do care." Tony put a hand to his heart, the clank of metal on metal echoing slightly. "I'm touched. Really. See here? Touched." He patted his arc reactor again.

Steve stiffened, frowning, before releasing a sigh and letting it go. "Just be careful," he said dryly. "If you need help, call." He turned and headed for the elevator back to his rooms.

"Yes mother!" Tony yelled after him. He grumbled some unflattering words about the Captain under his breath and turned his back to the closing elevator doors, a breeze whipping past his face as his windows slid open for him. "JARVIS, prepare my music, will you? You know that one track..."

He heard JARVIS sigh and grinned, blasting into the sky.

"Very well, sir."

* * *

The enemy of the day was a man in a blue full-body mechanic suit with little canons on his forearms, a jetpack on his back (So last season, Tony sniffed), and bombs strung across his chest and around his waist.

Hence his preferred title, Bomberman.

Tony almost had a coronary trying to hold back his laughter.

Of course, no one was laughing now as he tried to save people from the stupid bomb version of a countdown Bomberman had initiated _while _trying to fight Bomberman himself.

_BOOM! BOOM!_

"JARVIS, tell me how to deactivate the fence!" Tony ordered, grabbing a couple and flying them over the laser barrier, quickly depositing them on the other side and zooming back into the park.

"Feel the despair, Ironman! Feel the disappointment as you fail these people who are so in need of your help! Feel the pain I felt after you ruined my life!" Bomberman yelled, shooting blasts from his hand cannons.

"I've ruined plenty of lives," Tony replied over his shoulder, dodging the blasts and shooting back some of his own. "Just ask the Chitauri. Or maybe even Justin Hammer. So you'll have to do better than that."

He took a deep breath and felt it stick in his throat. Suddenly his suit felt hot and stifling. He shuddered, and shook his head. What was happening to him?

"Sir, your heart rate is increasing." JARVIS sounded worried. "Are you alright sir?"

He shook his head, focused on his screens, and yelped, diving into a barrel roll as a pair of round bombs flew by his head, exploding in midair. "I'm fine, I'm fine, the fence, JARVIS, focus on the fence!" He glanced at the heads-up display projected in front of his face, behind his helmet. His view of the ground was obscured by the blue silhouettes of the trapped citizens underneath him, and the yellow circles that represented the bombs JARVIS identified buried beneath them. As he watched, one bomb slowly shifted from yellow, to orange, to red.

_BOOM!_

More screams echoed throughout the park as another bomb exploded. "JARVIS, I need to bring down the fence _now!_"

A circle appeared on his HUD, which shrank until it encircled a corner of the laser fence. The iron rod anchoring the lasers flashed white. "Bingo!" He dove, activating the micromissiles hidden in his shoulder.

_BOOM!_

The lasers flickered, spluttered, then died. The people nearest them froze, as if unable to believe their luck.

Tony quickly changed their mind.

"_MOVE!" _he roared, zooming over their heads.

They moved.

"NO!" Bomberman screamed in fury. He streaked towards Ironman, grabbing a bomb from his chest and throwing it in his direction. Tony swerved, rolled, and blasted the bomb before it could land on the people below.

"He's turning into a real giant pain in the-" Tony swore and dodged another two blasts from Bomberman's cannons.

"Sir, those cannons seem to be powered by inserting explosives from the supply around the enemy's body. If he could be made to suffer sufficient heat or impact, the bombs may explode, taking away his ammunition as well as injuring him."

"Sure, yeah, let's go with that." He charged up his micromissiles again, sending them straight at Bomberman.

_BOOM!_

"Sir, Captain Rogers is attempting to contact you-"

Tony growled in frustration. "What now?"

He was answered by the beep of a call connecting. "Tony!" Steve yelled, cutting off whatever complaint he was planning to make. "There are still children in there!"

"_What?_" Tony looked down, JARVIS quickly locating and zooming in on a woman being held back by a couple of policemen, screaming and reaching out towards the park. From his position in the air, he could see two girls running towards her, one carrying the other in her arms. A nearby cameraman and reporter told Tony exactly where Steve had gotten his information. Even as he watched, another bomb exploded nearby, showering the girls with debris. "Shit!"

"Sir-"

_"I know!_" Tony dove.

A few feet in front of the children, a yellow circle turned orange.

Five. The woman screamed. "_Alice! Alice!_"

Four. "Moommyyy!" the little child wailed.

Three. The older girl stumbled, then froze, seeing a blinking red light at her feet.

Two. "Full power to thrusters!" Tony yelled.

One. The girl whirled around, and threw the child towards her mother. A policeman ran forward and caught her, yelling at the girl to run.

Zero.

Tony slammed into the girl, the shockwave from the bomb throwing him off-balance and sending them careening through the air. He managed to twist himself halfway underneath her before they smashed into the ground.

He took a deep breath, gasping, as his HUD scrambled with data about his suit. He felt suffocated, like he was falling again, without air, without fuel, helpless, dying-

"Sir? Sir!"

"I'm fine," he gasped, and rolled over. A muffled thump reminded him of his passenger.

"Hey kid... Kid!" Tony leaned over her, letting JARVIS scan her vitals. "Kid, you alright?" JARVIS sent back a visual report. Horribly bruised and scraped, but she'll be fine, Tony noted with relief.

Blue eyes fluttered open. "Owow... Uhh... I think? I-" Her eyes widened. "Look out!"

Tony whirled around, only to be slammed to the side by something- what? "Argh!" He flew though the air, skidding across the ground before he managed to right himself.

"KID!" He snapped his head up, searching for the girl-

And froze.

She sat, exactly where he had left her. One hand was stretched toward him, while the other was held out in front of her. A small round sphere stayed suspended in the air in front of her hand.

A sphere that, Tony was sure, had been careening towards them both a mere few seconds earlier, ready to blow them to bits.

To be fair, she looked as shocked as he felt at that moment.

Then, of course, the bomb blew up.

* * *

**I churned this out as fast as I could because I have not received this much positive feedback since, well, ever! I live for reviews now, hahaha! So don't be shy dear readers~**

**Also, I lied. You won't get to meet miss mystery girl til next chapter. Sorry!**

**katniss: Wow, is it really that big a deal? Anyway, thanks for your feedback! I tried my best with Hawkeye, and your approval means a lot to me!**

**Silmarilz1701, EmersedMouse, Starcrier: Thank you much for your support! I'll do my best not to disappoint you!**

**And of course, thank you to all those people who followed and favorited this story! Wish you guys would speak up though. Maybe this chapter will be enough incentive? :3**

**Next up, you get to seriously meet dear mystery girl already.**

**Ps. Did anyone notice my tiny Dynasty Warriors reference? ;)**


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